Tropical Storm Andrea
by SeraSearaSpin
Summary: Because the weather around the time I published this, and the east coast has Florida and North Carolina, his nose. All good stories end in a beer fight! Supposed to be sort of funny and sort of real-life-ish. Except I couldn't think up a worthy ending.


**A/N: Because according to our weatherman, it should be crossing around into my state around noon. All we've had is rain, rain, rain out the wazoo. And there was also a few phrases that caught my eye when I checked on the status that need to be shared:  
****"Tropical Storm Andrea zipping up the east coast," ; "After bringing rains, heavy winds, and even tornadoes to Florida..." ; "Andrea made landfall at 5:45 p.m. in Florida's Big Bend area with maximum sustained winds of near 65 mph." [BIG BEND. _BIG BEND. _XD enough of that]**

**...which activated my Hetalia senses. Poor America, that must be the equivalent of...actually, I'm not going to go there. Except I'm about to, because I'm writing this...^w^ don't judge me. Review! :D**

**And yes I did make America's ringtone Dubstep Solves Everything 3. }:)**

* * *

America woke up one rainy day in June to a strange sensation. Well, it was more of 'afternoon', when he was taking a perfectly fine nap after playing CoD all night with Tony. The alien had then gone to visit Japan, searching for a better opponent because America kept getting pwned. America shook his head for a moment at the alien's insane gamer skills and wondered briefly who would triumph. Maybe he should go and visit and spread his heroicness around. He promptly fell back to sleep to the sound of the rain, ignoring the weird feeling.

The next day he woke up again at a more normal time to wake up, 10 something or other. He stretched under the blanket he'd thrown over the couch

Then there was that weird feeling again, and his eyes widened. It only felt that weird when something downright nasty was happening down south. The last time had been the oil spill in the gulf, which didn't bear thinking about. The time it took to clean out...and the time it'd still require to clean out was horrendously horrible. In fact the entire cleaning process was horrendously horrible. He hoped there wasn't another oil spill. He'd just got it mostly out of...actually, never mind.

With a weird tingle in the awkward areas, he hesitated for a moment before running for his laptop, pausing to swipe coffee out of the microwave on the way. It was gray outside, and the clouds threatened rain or at least miserable drizzle. It seemed as if it took too long to boot up, and he gulped the coffee every three seconds while drumming his fingers irritably on the counter. When the cursor finally popped up on the black screen, he moved it around in wild circles. The tingle was slowly spreading up Florida, which kinda made him want to scream.

The blue screen finally appeared! Ah, salvation! He moved the mouse past Tony's icon and clicked the hamburger, typing in the nine-character password. Tony always said it was too easy to guess, but really, who would? Mm, he was hungry. Should he call up Burger King and rack up some more Frequent Customer points? No, because THAT IRRITATING TINGLE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH would distract him and possibly make the employees less likely to employ him. He was sure they were still considering his application.

Squirming around on the spot while waiting for his desktop to come up caused him to spill his coffee all over the place. The floor, the counter, and his pants were all soaked. He groaned. _Another thing to do._

America heroically rescued the laptop and placed it on the kitchen table before the hot coffee soaked downwards and he had to run out of the room. He was almost sort of screaming, but he kept it in. Mostly. If anyone had been watching, they'd've noticed a high meeping sound until America changed his pants.

When he came back, his desktop was up - that beer fight he'd had with France, Iggy, and Prussia, good times, good times - and he clicked on Google Chrome. The little annoying logo spun and began loading while the tingling itch moved on past his belly button. He glanced at the clock in the corner -10:59 and 54 seconds, thanks, clock- and typed in the name of the local weather place. The timer he'd plugged in for the radio switched on, and his room was suddenly filled with loud music. _Hey, I know this song! _Then he remembered that the radio was plugged into his iPhone and was playing 'Safety Torch'. He smiled and sang along, and then screwed up the part about putting safety torches in the hallway when the itch kicked in -crawling up his neck now- and he remembered what he was doing.

America gritted his teeth at his forgetfulness when it came to everything musical and glanced at the headlines. "Tropical Storm Andrea zipping up the east coast!" read the headlines, and he scratched the tingle thoughtfully while reading the article. Apparently storms and heavy rain were expected all up the east coast, stretching from Florida to North Carolina. His nose started running about then, which meant that the preceding waves of rain had reached North Carolina and possibly beyond, and he groaned again and ran to get tissues.

Tissue box safely in hand, he skimmed the article for anything else. _Wait- its name is Andrea. Andrea, hmm, that's a girl name. _He froze._ DOES THIS MEAN A GIRL WAS ALL OVER FLORIDA? _

As this revelation broke into his mind, the phone rang, blaring the newest in the Dubstep Solves Everything series. America grinned. _I knew it was a good idea to make this song my ringtone._ Plus, it had the added benefit of irritating England, which was exactly the point. Then he leaped to pick it up, almost bowling his laptop off the table. He righted the laptop while blowing his nose, tripped over a chair, and surfaced triumphantly with the phone in grasp. He pressed it to his ear with his shoulder while he stood the chair back up and placed the pile of magazines about crazy celebrities on it. "It's me!"

It was from Japan, informing him that Tony had come over to play video games with him but forgot the disc, and could he please bring it over or give it to Russia who could give it to him? No? Why not? Oh, was it because Russia had accidentally been summoned by England _again_? Oh, well, just bring it over at the soonest notice. "Thank you, America," he said gravely, as if it were a matter of life and death instead of just a video game.

America put the phone back - the song had now changed to Nugget in a Biscuit, and he set the iPhone to shuffle - and blew his nose again. Not that it'd do any good, of course, because it wasn't really his nose that was running, it was a by-product of all the rain in North Carolina. Apparently - his eyes bulged - the average rainfall for almost-summer had _doubled_ with this storm, and there were flash floods all over the place. People bent on having vacations hunkered down in their homes and ate junk food.

_He_ was planning on going on a vacation too! His face went sober. There was only one thing to do. America picked up his phone and speed-dialed.

"Hey, Denmark! Call Prussia and SK, I'm bored."

"Is this what I think it is?"

America grinned devilishly, though the other couldn't see him. "It's Friday! Beer fight day!"

On cue to the maniacal laughter from the other end, he broke out into the beer fight song, which he made up on the spot.

Rainy days were nothing to beer fight day!


End file.
